


Dream Machine

by Fin_Finley



Category: Original Work
Genre: OC, Original Character - Freeform, Original Character(s), Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 15:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fin_Finley/pseuds/Fin_Finley
Summary: Dream Machine is a short story focusing on a male character and his highly detailed dreams.





	

Dream Machine

Colours.

They cloud his senses, his mind, his soul.

Rainbows beating in time with the fluid but energetic electrifying music blaring from the speakers as he; as they, dance.

A bead of sweat slithers down his clavicle, sending shivers cascading down his spine as he slowly opens his eyes and sees-

Blue.

The most startling blue eyes he has ever witnessed; sweeping him away to calm ocean mornings and clear skies, as deafening as the wind that howls during a storm when you're falling asleep.

Sweat slicks his body, eyelids heavy and black t-shirt melding with his skin as others jostle him about, lost in the music.

All he can see are colours; and that blue, oh, that blue. The blue that penetrates his entire being, stealing his attention so intensively that he forgets how to breathe.

If only he could reach out and  _touch_ it-

He does.

One arm reaching up excruciatingly slow until fingertips graze the skin of the sky.

He leans forward; the feeling of warm breath mingling with his own sending electrifying thrills that resonate down to his bones as he brushes his lips against the ocean waves in a feather light touch, sending waves down both of their spines.

He looks up, and he sees blue.

It is the last thing he can recognize before his own eyes close without permission in surprise at the feeling of a tongue running hesitantly along his bottom lip.

Colours.

He sees them as he presses forward, craning in need to feel that tongue again. Hands are in his hair, playing with the sweat soaked strands along the back of his neck as he presses their bodies together.

And the heat, oh, the heat.

Lips against lips, the brush of tongue against tongue- rainbows dancing as golden stars burst with every bite he feels against his teeth.

Fists curl in attempt to regain enough self-control as he pulls away, opening his eyes slowly and seeing-

Green.

His green.

Reflecting in that  _beautiful_  blue.

Clammy, hot hands meet and soft fingers intertwine as they dance to the rainbows and the beat of their connected hearts- and they see colours.

Clouding their senses, their minds, their souls.

Eyelids fall shut, blue melding into piercing white as the world itself expands above him.

It reminds him of the winter, far up north where the snow reaches so far out of sight that the sky and the ground become one.

He opens his eyes.

Clumps of shining white dance across the sky as cold breath forms moisture on the edge of his tattered scarf. The sun blazes upon them in blinding rays reflected from white expanse, but green eyes stare wide, unaware.

It reaches out to him through the colours of the iris, moist breath cascading across his fingertips as hooved feet stomp against the fresh snow beneath them.

Impossibly large antlers stand out against the frozen sky, as he stands still, a single hand reaching forward towards the magnificent beast.

A thousand icicles find their way into his veins, green eyes ablaze as if the forest itself resided in them.

Emerald dances as it connects with shining silver; their eyes share their own infinite worlds.  Time itself stops as the snow falls silently around them.

Moisture dampens his fingertips as the beast before him exhales, the sound carried across the sky by ghosting wind.

He had never known the feeling of being so alive while standing so still, feet crying out in the cold as the tips of his toes become numb at the temperature seeping through his shoes.

_Emotion_ wells in the pit of his eyes, the sound of his breath echoing in the open air as it leaves his parted lips in a shaky exhale.

He finds tears cascading down his frosted cheeks as a hand reaches up in surprise; and the beast roars.

The sound slithers across the sky as if the lid had been unscrewed, Pandora’s Box shattering as emotions ravage his core.

_Fear_ grips his heart as ash begins to fall around them, the sky ablaze in hues of red and orange as he has never seen it before.

Flames lick the air, starved with passion and excitement as they seep through his heated skin. He feels a pain so excruciating that it tears at the strings of his heart, so deep and so strong that it echoes through his body, let out in the crackling sound of the burning logs that surround him. A heat so powerful that the tips of his eyelashes burn, sweat gliding down his naked body in streaks of shining, pale flesh that shine amongst the blaze.

Fearful, questioning green eyes stare forth as hooved feet glide dispassionately across the singed grass, antlers disappearing into eternity as darkness envelops his being. A darkness that he has never known, so thick that it sinks into his veins as his parted lips open in a silent cry, heard only by the infinitely empty expanse that surrounds him.

It begins at the roots of his hair, raindrops pelting his body. Water descends upon his aching skin, emotion seeping its way through his pores as the liquid captures it and washes it away.

A relieved exhale escapes his lips as the cold temperature soothes the raging heat emanating from inside his very being.

His feet lay pressed against the ground, his hands reaching up as he feels raindrops connecting with his fingertips. It reminds him of childhood, of stormy mornings and hot chocolate by the fireplace. He feels each drop that glides across his aching skin in raw incredulity, as if each droplet represented a lifetime.

The years wash themselves away.

He feels alive, he feels fluid, he feels free.

He imagines the gentle glow of a warm light, a softness reaching out towards him.

A fervency grasps his fingertips, grains of sand finding sanctuary in every wrinkle and crevice of his worn clothing as it dances through the air on waves of wind around him.

Before him stands a temple, infinitely large as he exhales, breath mingling with the heated air flowing around him. It towers above him in threatening form, shining gold under the blazing sky.

Distant sounds resonate across its shining structure, the harmony of centuries left untouched erupting from its innards. It is as if the walls understand his words before they leave his lips, this strange connection between the living and the manufactured enticing him as he gazes upon the towering edifice.

Calloused hands reach forward, connecting in applause as thunder erupts from the atmosphere above him. It strikes a fear within him that has him clenching, reaching out for an alleviation he isn’t sure exists.

The world is spinning.

He closes his eyes, and he is running.

His feet pound against the unforgiving cement as hoarse groans force their way out of his throat. His torn vocal chords cry out in defiance as pain erupts from each nerve with his futile attempts at calling out for assistance.

He’s close.

He can hear the rapid footsteps closing in behind him, fear gripping him like he’s never felt before as shivers cascade their way across his spine. The moon shines down upon them, casting silver hues upon his pale, clammy skin.

He can feel it before it happens, a tender warmth and tingle erupting from his lower back sending ghosts through his veins. The sharp metal causes no pain; it’s visceral, it’s innate.

A calmness reaches him as he feels it slither through his muscle, the cold metal soothing his frenzied nerves as blood pools around the wound.

He feels his eyes close slowly to the sound of ragged breathing, fatigue radiating from his exhausted limbs, and he is falling.

The darkness breaks into day as he falls through thick clouds, moisture sticking to his skin as he watches the ground approach.

In a speed so slow it feels like days pass with every second, he reaches a hand out to grasp what isn’t really there. Moisture seeps through his skin, the cold temperature contrasting his wild thoughts.

He sees the world from above.

The mountains that meld into rivers, into streams, into lakes. Towering above the world in an uninterrupted grace that steals his breath. He sees the endless forests, strips of emerald and moss green expanding and moulding the very ground he gazes upon in endless zeal.

The world before him hardens, it coagulates into buildings the size of the foothills, with so many cars that it reminds him of his childhood collection, when he would spend hours setting them up upon a carpet road, assembling his own traffic laws and population.

Formations of architecture dance across the ground in encrypting and captivating designs; a manufactured beauty that holds a relationship with the nature that seems to work its way into every crevice, every crack of cement.

It reminds him of the sunset in his hometown, when colour would find its way into the most decrepit, lonely spaces. 

Comfort slithers through his veins as he glances forward.

Glittering hues of orange and pink dance across the glistening sand as each wave passes over the seemingly endless strip of lonely beach that he now walks along. Sea-salt scented air fills his nostrils as he shoots his arms up into the sky, his fingertips catching small bursts of ocean wind.

He finds his toes grounded underneath warm sand as it connects him with a physical sense of _being_ that he’s never quite felt before. The lasting rays of sunlight cast masterpieces across his pale skin as if the ocean waves themselves resided on it.

Blazing sunlight shines against green irises as he watches a flock of seagulls fly their last course of the day into the far unknown. It is in this moment, that he knows the earth is his.

Sweeping his mouse brown wavy locks behind his ear as the sun begins to settle over the horizon line, the sound of harbour bells being carried by the wind wrapping him up for what seems like hours.

Strands of impossibly tall barley and wheat grace his elbows as he continues his journey along the open expanse, the tips tickling his skin and sending waves down his vertebrae.

The world around him begins to dissolve, colours merging as he recalls shining blue eyes and snowy mornings, a beastly roar and a darkness so strong it strikes fear in his core. The warmth of a strong summer afternoon as thunder erupts across the sky, the adrenaline of a chase, and the ecstasy of a fall.

A shaky breath escapes his parted lips, but he is no longer there to hear it.

Crusted eyes crack open slowly as the first excruciating rays of sunlight pour into the humid room, casting a golden glow across his bedsheets.

Sleeping in has only rewarded him with congested sinuses and a groggy state of mind, he realizes, as the sounds of morning insects and distant birds make their way into his sleep-fuzzy consciousness.

Nerves spark at the first light touch of toes against the cold floorboards as he rouses himself out of bed, stumbling across the room in attempt to avoid scattered textbooks and crumpled pages of years past, all placed haphazardly around the room in last night’s final burst of motivation to organize his schoolwork.

Startlingly green eyes take in the appearance of a young but sculpted face, free from the never present facial hair of a boy his age yet covered in dry slobber from the previous few hours of dead sleep.

A chuckle escapes his chapped lips.

Wavy brown hair which can never be tamed is worse than ever on this particular day, and brushing it only results in it looking like a mangled lion’s mane when he realizes that half of it was only held down by sleep formed tangles that had curled around the back of his head.

His feet tingle each time his toes reach a new step as he somehow manages to find his way down the stairs, ocean air filling his nostrils as his eyelids begin to fall shut in defiance against the blazing morning light that finds itself in every corner of the room.

He glances forward, and he sees her.

Strawberry blonde hair curls around his mother’s ear as she hums a tune familiar to only the two of them, the cool morning breeze dancing across the open room from the porch. His mind connects, a chorus of voices partaking in song with her as he mouths the words with silent lips. The voice that does not leave his mouth sends vibrations down to his toes as he recalls each lullaby his mother sang to him when he found he could not sleep, distant and hazy memories finding themselves in his distraction.

A breath escapes him as he watches her, fragile fingers creating masterpieces as she prepares breakfast for the both of them under the morning light. Large eyelashes frame her slim face, the same ones that are present around his own emerald eyes.

He isn’t able to tell when her body ends and the world around them begins, her skin ablaze with eagerness as she works on their food as if it were the last thing she would ever have the chance to do. Nimble fingers pick and place with practised ease, a calmness settling over her with each second passing.

He finds a connection between the reality and the unexplored as he stands silently in the middle of the room, the blood in his veins vibrating as it resonates throughout his body. The sound of ocean waves meets his half-awake ears as they crash upon the bubbled shore, and he is reminded of warm summer evenings surrounded by barley and wheat.

He watches as particles of dust dance in and out of view under the beams of light that find their destination on the worn kitchen table. He glances towards his fingertips, echoes of elements resonating through each twist and turn of his fingerprints as a smile works its way onto his face.

“How were your dreams, sweetheart?” The ever-calming voice of his mother reaches his alert ears as she glances up from her work, emerald green eyes meeting his own as expanses of infinite forests connect. Bits of recollections flood his mind of endless stretches of enticing green and manufactured architecture working in time like a clock piece.

He loses himself for only a short period of time, lips tingling with the memory of someone else’s connected with his own under the beat of raging music and a sweaty crowd. Colours dance their way across his brain, water drops soothing his aching body under open air.

“I don’t know, I can’t remember.” He responds, reflections of blue eyes and snowy mornings lost as reality seeps its way into his slowly-waking brain. Echoes of thunder and a deafening roar find themselves lost in an endless expanse of imagination.

He finds himself gazing intently towards the utensils in front of him as he prepares to eat, a strange sense of loss and deprivation working its way into his body as his eyelids narrow towards the offending instruments.

“I’m sure they were rather normal; my dreams aren’t very exciting.” He continues with a quiet exhale, unable to look away from the blazing green eyes that meet his own in his reflection on the knife in front of him.


End file.
